Saviour
by deidei66
Summary: M/M Warnings: Major angst, rape, abuse,OOC. AU War breaks out, people change. Draco finds himself no longer able to perform the heinous acts expected of him and is punished maliciously by his father. Is Potter really the saviour Draco believes him to be
1. Chapter 1: Change

War changes people

**Summary:** M/M Warnings: Major angst, rape, abuse, OOC (sadistic) Harry.

AU War has broken out. Draco finds himself no longer able to perform the heinous acts expected of him and is punished maliciously by his father. Is Harry Potter really the saviour Draco believes him to be? Don't look for a happy ending here.

**A/N: My first Harry Potter story, so please be nice. ****It is told in Draco's POV. Some characters may seem OOC. Will contain slash a bit later, but not of the fluffy variety. **

**Chapter One**** – Change **

War changes people.

It hardens their hearts and they become jaded, both to their own emotions and those of others. They are made apathetic by their instincts, honed to put their own survival above all else. They are more savage, willing to do anything for victory and an end to the ongoing conflict. Neither the "good" nor the "evil" side are immune to this change. It doesn't matter if you're Gryffindor or Slytherin, saint or devil, it is human nature, and no one could escape that.

After full scale war had broken out in my sixth year, things were never the same again. Most of the Hogwarts students had been taken out of school by anxious parents, wanting to keep the family together in such a time of danger. Slytherin house had been the first to empty out. The Death Eater children were taken by their parents to various training camps, readying themselves for their part in the take over of the wizarding world. I had been amongst the first to leave, whisked away by my father back to Malfoy Manor, what had by then already became the centre of operations for Voldemort and his minions.

From what I have heard from various Death Eater informants, Hogwarts remained open, though not to the general public. It had become a base of operations for the Order of the Phoenix. A few students remained at the school, headed by the Golden Trio. There they participated in similar activities to the Death Eater children, training in the arts of war. The Death Eaters had made many attempts to take Hogwarts, although this was rendered impossible by Dumbledore's presence. Granted, the Dark Lord had only made half hearted attempts at this, his aim was to make Hogwart's inhabitants scared and uneasy. Although it had nearly been a year since the war started, neither side had made any major moves. Voldemort seemed to be taking his time, allowing his following to become larger, stronger. He whittled away at the Light side's defences and morale with occasional massacres on both the Muggle and the general wizarding population.

I have observed a gradual change over the past two years in the people around me. Mother became even more cold and detached, quietly disapproving of father's decisions but powerless to do anything about it. My father, enraptured by his devotion to the Dark Lord, became crueller than ever before. The once stoic man who rarely showed emotion is now generously dishing out anger and aggression to anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. Most of the time that unfortunate person was me.

I was also not exempt from change. The little boy who had once revelled in the thought of putting mudbloods and muggles in their rightful place was no more. I had been young and naïve, never thinking of what the ideals ingrained into me from birth really entailed. I had never considered what I had to do once the war started.

I found out the hard way.

_ Flashback _

It was two months ago. My father had decided that I have had enough training. It was time to put into practice what I've learnt.

He took me, along with some other Death Eaters as witnesses for my "initiation", to a muggle household. They had been a family of five. They had committed no crime apart from the fact that no magic ran through their veins. At that time, I had still not lost my disillusions of wanting to please father. It was the little boy in me that hungered for his daddy's approval that made me do what I would regret for the rest of my life.

The events leading up to the actual deed was a blur for me, but the look in the little girl's eyes when I whispered the two dreaded words will stay with me forever. Avada Kedavra was truly a dreadful spell. You would never know what casting it feels like until you do it yourself. As the bolt of green light connected, I physically _felt _the life leaving the girl's body.

After casting the spell, I had prompted turned around and threw up all the contents of my stomach. It was then that I finally recognised my father for what he really was. A person who revelled in the feeling that had spawned such self loathing and disgust within me. A person that took life on a regular basis and delighted in it. It was at that moment that the little boy within me had died. I could never please such a man.

Tears began squeezing their way out of my eyes and I turned into a disgusting snivelling mess. I knelt there, clutching my head in my hands, unable to look up and face what I had done. I vaguely head father's angry voice.

"Finish the job Draco. You are not to shame the Malfoy name with such cowardly behaviour. Kill the rest of these muggle scums and the Dark Lord may forgive you one day for your lapse in judgement."

I shook my head desperately him, refusing to look up at him. I knew that I could never take an innocent life again. The one I did take would haunt me until I breathed my last.

"No." My voice came out in a hoarse whisper. That was the first time I had ever defied my father.

It was then that father's patience finally ran out.

"_Imperio_."

After that I became a hostage to my own body. I slew the rest of the family without hesitation. I used a myriad of cruel spells that I had not even known, dragging out their deaths and prolonging their suffering. I blacked out as soon as I heard the thump of the last lifeless body hitting the ground. .

_ Flashback end _

The other Death Eaters were gleeful when they heard the news of what happened. Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right hand man, had a filthy muggle lover for a son. Oh the scandal. I was dragged home by father and promptly locked up in one of our many underground dungeons. I remember finding it strange that father had not punished me immediately. I knew better than to think that it was a fatherly act of compassion. It wasn't.

Father returned later with a group of Death Eaters at his heels. They were to be witnesses for my punishment. It was clear what father was trying to do. Lucius Malfoy did not harbour the same sympathies as his blood traitor of a son, and now he was going to prove it.

He did prove it, and nearly killed me in the process. That first night stretched on into what seemed like an eternity. Each time as I was about to faint from the blood loss, a skilful spell healed me just enough to wake me, and the torture started all over again. I found out first hand about spells that made the Cruciatus curse seem like the gentle tickling of a feather, spells that mutilated your body in ways that I would not be able to imagine even in my wildest nightmares.

After a century of agony, the pain suddenly ceased. The surrounding Death Eaters were silent, waiting eagerly for father's next action. The few who had been unable to stomach the sight in front of them had long ago turned heel and fled, despite ridicule from their comrades. Father stood in front of me and looked at me with his stony eyes. I did not recognise this man. He was not the severe but occasionally compassionate father who raised me. Voldemort had changed him. I was looking into the eyes of a stranger. And that's when I truly felt terrified. I not longer had a father. There was no Lucius Malfoy, father of Draco Malfoy. There was only Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man.

Lucius raised a hand and stroked my bloodied cheek with mocking tenderness. "Draco, my son," he murmured. "Have you learnt your lesson?"

I gathered my last, tattered shreds of defiance and pride, curling my lips into my old trademark sneer. "I am not your son," I snarled. My voice was hoarse from screaming, but in the deathly silent room it resonated like I had shouted it. There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding Death Eaters as they waited for Lucius' explosion of temper.

A look of anger flashed in Lucius Malfoy's icy grey eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it came and was replaced by disgust. The man I had called father all my life turned his back to me and started walking out of the dungeon.

Was this it? Was my torment finally over?

Lucius paused at the entrance to the dungeon. "Do what you want with him."

No. The ordeal was only just beginning.

The Death Eaters did not kill me. Lucius had not specified if it was alright for them to do so, and none of them wanted to risk incurring his wraith. The things they did to me made me wish for death.

They took from me my last shred of dignity, the last part of me where no one had gone before. They took away my innocence, my naïve dreams of sharing my first time with someone special.

As I felt the horrible grunting and moaning behind me, the taunting of one of my tormentors rose above the rest.

"How do you like this, filthy blood traitor? Not even Potter will want save a murderer like you."

Potter?

Harry Potter.

My hazy thoughts drifted away from my physical body as I contemplated. Potter, the Boy who Lived. The mortal enemy I had so childish sworn. Dumbledore's favourite. The saviour of the wizarding world. The good guys were meant to be forgiving right? Maybe even someone like me could hope for redemption…

Potter would save me. He was the Golden Boy. Potter's not supposed to discriminate; he's meant to save everyone.

Right?

**A/N: And there it is, a horribly dramatic mess spawned on my mega emo angst. Please review and tell me what you thought of it!**


	2. Chapter 2: Escape

It was not Potter who saved me, but someone I least expected

**Thank you all for your wonderful reviews!**** They are really very motivational. Laziness is in my nature… so I really do need an occasional kick up the backside to keep going lol. **

_**IMPORTANT A/N**_**: Before I continue I must say that Harry will not be the straight out saintly saviour as he is portrayed in some other stories. In other words, he's going to be kinda mean to poor Draco. I dunno if this puts you off… but hopefully not. **

**Chapter Two - ****Escape**

The past two months went by in a hazy nightmare. Down in the lightness depth of the dungeon, I had no way of telling the time. If not for the daily meals sent down to me by the house elves, I would not know one day from the next. Asking for their help was out of the question, although I was also their master, their loyalty first and foremost would always be to Lucius. Although Potter has proved that the creatures will disobey their masters if there was reason enough, I have not fallen so far from grace that I will stoop to begging a house elf for help. I would have nowhere to go even if they did help me escape the Manor.

During the first month, I was paid frequent visits by bored Death Eaters. They used me to test out new torture methods and to satisfy their disgusting cravings. But one day came, and the visits stopped altogether. I had been left hanging from the ceiling by my forearms with wire ropes, slowly bleeding to death. No one returned to untie me, and had it not been for a sympathetic house elf, I would not be alive right now.

Call me morbid, but to me this new loneliness was even worse than daily torture. There was nothing to break the monotony and I was afraid that I would go insane. I would often wake from sleep in a cold sweat, having had a nightmare where I was the only one left in the Manor. Dumped and left there to rot like leftover garbage. I tried speaking to the house elves numerous times. They were reluctant to talk to me at first, but I persisted, demanding answers with my old Malfoy stubbornness until they finally relented. The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were still inside the Manor. They had their fun, now they must have grown bored of me.

In the end, it was not Potter who saved me, but someone I least expected.

I was woken from sleep by the sound of the heavy stone door of my cell opening. I opened by eyes and was nearly blinded by the pale green light of the _lumos_ spell. I blinked back tears from this sudden exposure to light and tried to make out who my visitor was. The figure was slight, unmistakably a woman. She looked to be carrying a few objects in her hands, although I couldn't exactly make out what they were in the dim light. Upon closer inspection I noted familiar ringlets of golden blonde hair.

"Mother?" I asked incredulously. Her usually immaculate hair was unkempt and dishevelled; her outfit looked as if she had picked it out of the dark. A far cry from the cold and untouchable woman I had known all my life. My nose detected the distinct smell of alcohol in the dank dungeon air. She was drunk?

Mother's looked me up and down with her cerulean blue eyes, a look of disdain fixed into them. It was a look that I wasn't unfamiliar with. I remember her giving me the same a lot when I was young. I had always thought that the colour of her eyes was deceptively warm, unlike the icy blue colour and Lucius and I shared.

"You always were a disagreeable child, crying and moaning at the tiniest little things." she sniffed. "And here you are, stirring up trouble again."

"Why are you here, mother?" I asked. "Did father-"

Narcissa cut me off with a scornful laugh. "Your father? That bigoted, tyrannical, power hungry man? No, he didn't send me down here, too busy licking the Dark Lord's boots to spend any time with the woman he married. There are times when I wonder if he'd just rather spend his nights in the Dark Lord's bed instead."

"Mother," I said in alarm. I was shocked that she would voice her opinions so openly about the Dark Lord. Mother, despite being the wilful woman that she was, had always sought to please her husband. What had happened to make her like this? I doubted this was the effect of a few bottles of firewhisky. "Do not let anyone hear you speak this way."

"He ruined my life!" Narcissa screamed. I flinched in surprise at this sudden outburst, glad that the walls of the dungeon were sound proof. "Getting himself mixed up in this disgusting war, blindly following that disgusting snake creature wherever he goes. It's as if I do not exist!"

It was then that my eyes adjusted to the light enough to notice the dark bruises on mother's pale face.

"He hit you?" I asked. Things between the two of them must be worse than I thought. That explained mother's tempter then. No one had ever raised a hand against Narcissa Malfoy in her life; this must have taken her some taking used to.

Mother ignored my question and rambled on, to herself or to me I didn't know. "Even if we win the war, can you imagine life with that filthy, halfblooded creature ruling over us all?" mother said, her eyes glittering with hints of madness. For a split second there she looked identical to aunt Bellatrix. She looked me in the eyes then, they were steely and filled with determination. "I know I won't get a happy ending Draco. But I'll do my damned best to make sure that _your father_ suffers with me."

I spied a vial of potion in her hands, my well trained eyes recognising it to be a potent poison.

"I doubt killing me would make father suffer very much mother," I said to her wryly. "In case you haven't noticed, he's not been very pleased with me recently."

"Oh this isn't for you," said Narcissa. "These are." She threw two objects to me. One of them was my wand, the other was a small object covered by a silk bag. I looked up at her in amazement.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked. I knew she could care less about my fate. I knew my mother well, Narcissa Malfoy had no motherly nature to speak of. Whatever she does she do purely for her own personal gain. I looked in the bag, and to my excitement discovered that it was a portkey in the form of a pedant of the Malfoy Crest.

"I want you to join that muggle lover Dumbledore. There's nothing that will annoy or disgrace your father more than loosing his only heir to that old fool. Oh and befriend that Potter boy while you're at it, that'll put the icing on the cake. This is my way of paying _him_ back for the humiliation and suffering he brought me," said Narcissa, lips curling into an ugly sneer.

"You want me to… join Dumbledore?" I asked in disbelief.

Mother huffed impatiently. "Yes boy, are you daft? I want you to join Dumbledore. That will be your repayment to me for saving you from rotting in this miserable dungeon. Promise me that you'll do as I say Draco, and don't you dare go into hiding like the snivelling little coward you are."

It's always nice to know that your own mother has such a high opinion of you.

"I promise mother." What've I got to loose? My pride? I don't think I have much left anyway.

I started reaching into the silk bag but hesitated. "Won't you come with me?" She may be far from the best mother in the world, but she's the only one I have.

"Don't be idiotic," snapped Narcissa, her voice was strong but she looked weary and defeated. I spotted her hands clutching the vial of poison so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"But once they find out that you helped me escape-"

"Just GO!" she shrieked at me. I nodded quickly and stuck a hand into the bag to feel the cold metal of the pedant.

"Goodbye mother," I said quietly.

As the familiar pulling feeling of the portkey pulled me away from Malfoy Manor, I took one last look at the woman who had given birth to me.

I saw her throwing back the contents of the vial, a defiant and satisfied smile on her lips.

The portkey pulled me to god knows where, and suddenly I was falling.

Then there was a lot of pain. Green pain.

That's funny, I never thought there was a particular colour associated with pain before. If there had to be one, you'd think it would be red or something.

Through my blurry vision, I discovered that I was now lying in a patch of mossy grass, staring up at the tall ominous trees that loomed above me. The portkey must

have kindly decided to take me to a place some ten metres above a forest. I had been dumped unceremoniously like a sack of potatoes. Having not eaten properly for two months or received proper treatment for my injuries, the fall took more out of me than it normally would have, so I lay there patiently and waited for the stars to recede and for my breath to return.

As my eyes finally cleared, I discovered the greenness I had observed before were not from the surrounding trees as I previously thought. They were from something else, something that was scrutinising me intensely from above with a mixture of shock and hostility

I opened my suddenly parched lips and let one single word out of my mouth.

"Potter?"

A flash of red light followed, and then there was nothing.

**A/N: ****Well that's it! Thanks for reading. In case you can't tell, Harry will in the next chapter, lols.**


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